


Secrets, Told in Legends

by ForbiddenSnack



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, M/M, Not Really Character Death, an English translation of a Chinese fic based on an English fic, can someone appreciate my subterfuge talent pun please, we've come full circle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26540017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenSnack/pseuds/ForbiddenSnack
Summary: A translation of wyl50’s ABO fic based on Flarenwrath’s superstition fic, where Shaw learns about sea stalks and his feelings towards Flynn.Alpha!Flynn / Omega-disguised-as-Beta!Shaw (but people assume he's Alpha)
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	Secrets, Told in Legends

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【fairshaw】秘密与传说](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045692) by [wyl50](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyl50/pseuds/wyl50). 



> Quick and dirty translate job. I took some of my own creative liberties for effect and to make the story flow smoother in English, but the plot is identical.
> 
> The original work was itself is based off of [A promise to come home to he by Flarenwrath](https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/24049768)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t know much about the ABO trope. I wasn’t even aware of it until I came across the original work. I did this because I wanted practice writing and thought translating would be an interesting way to do it. Feel free to comment if I get anything wrong!

Flynn Fairwind has a new friend. Yes, he does indeed. His name is Spymaster. Quiet, brooding, and mysterious--

“It’s Shaw. Mathias Shaw!” Shaw huffed, “I’m sure we’re both speaking Common?”

The bastarding ex-pirate. Ever since they returned from the treasury together (no need to make it sound like a theft, it was a _mission_ , thank you very much), Fairwind has pulled every punch to get him into a tavern. He should’ve refused - no, he _did_ refuse, but to be a spymaster is to be tactful in all things. Of course the idiot would be impervious to such advanced techniques. Tact was probably not even part of his vocabulary.

But as much as Shaw might be reluctant to admit, there’s something to be said about drinking with Fairwind, even if he could never remember his name. Though his agents have been all over Azeroth, and even other planets in some cases, Shaw himself hasn’t had the luxury of exploring the corners of the world. On the rare occasion that he does get to leave his mission table, he’s always been preoccupied with some task at hand. And so Fairwind’s tales, equally real and fanciful, had pulled him in like the tide. A gifted storyteller with an offering of free ale. Who could refuse?

“Mattie...do you know those...turtle people?”

Ah, so Fairwind _does_ know how to call him by name, thank the Light. Even if it was a nickname. Shaw will take what he can get.

“Hey, listen to me, there’s a particularly strange... _hic!_ ” Fairwind said, trying to stifle a hiccup.

This is why Shaw only ever orders Whitegrove Pale.

“He...or she...ok, I can’t tell the difference with those damn Tortollans. They? Anyway, I saw them killing albatrosses by the beach one day, and ( _hic!_ ) baby turtles the next. What do you suppose is wrong with ‘em?”

Shaw didn’t know what to say about the Tortollan, but the man in front of him, desperately trying to keep himself upright, was proving to be quite the entertainment. Less entertaining, however, was the prospect of putting Fairwind to bed. At least he hasn’t knocked himself out to the point of needing to be carried. He just needs someone to gently steer him in the right direction, lest he end up stumbling himself into the sea.

“Where was I?” His thoughts were interrupted by Fairwind and the attempt he was making to stand.

It was hard not to laugh at the stupor that Fairwind had drunk himself into. Instead, he regarded the man incredulously. “I have a meeting tomorrow morning. Perhaps it’s time to get you to bed.”

“Oh ( _hic!_ ) Mattie, you know just what a man needs. Are you this nice to your girlfriend, too?” Fairwind giggled, looping an arm around Shaw’s shoulder as he did.

“I’ve told you, I don’t have a girlfriend,” Shaw replied, adjusting himself to accommodate Fairwind’s added weight. It will take some effort to navigate Fairwind through the bottles, dice, cards, and other junk strewn about the maze of a tavern.

Those devoted to a life of work didn’t need a partner, it would serve as nothing but a distraction. As far as he was concerned, love is a person’s greatest vulnerability. It was something he could decidedly do without, as every weakness can and will be used against a spy. So Shaw has never taken a lover, and he was content for that to be the way of things. But Fairwind seems to enjoy making a joke of it. It was by far his least favourite part of their conversations. No matter how many times Shaw rebuts him, Fairwind insists on unearthing a part of Shaw’s life that doesn't exist. He swore never to accompany Fairwind to a tavern again, if all it did was get him to bring up this useless topic.

Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice Fairwind leaning in, pressing a sloppy, whiskey-scented kiss to his lips, startling him back to reality. They say the sea air is supposed to help clear your mind, but it seems to have done nothing but the opposite for Fairwind. There was no other explanation for how he could possibly find this acceptable. He pushed at Fairwind, cursing all the while. Though tipsy himself, he found enough of his reflexes to clap a hand over Fairwind’s mouth when he leaned back in for a second kiss.

“Mm! Mmph!” Fairwind tried to say something from behind the hand that muffled him.

Shaw let go.

“Aw, come on, don’t pretend you minded.”

“Shut up and keep to yourself, Captain. Let me be clear, I’m not a Beta,” Shaw said, after a pause.

Fairwind couldn’t help but laugh. “I know that. You must be naive to think anyone wouldn’t. So what if you’re an Alpha, who cares?” he said, as he cupped a hand to Shaw’s face. Shaw mustered the best glare he could manage.

“Alright, fine. Someone’s in a mood,” Fairwind muttered.

“Flynn Fairwind, listen for once. As I’ve told you countless times, I don’t care for such conversation. Seeing how far you’ve overstepped tonight, perhaps our interactions should stay strictly professional from now on.” Shaw tried to inject seriousness into his tone, but it was lost on Fairwind. He vowed to remain silent on the subject of his love life from now on, no matter how much Fairwind provoked him.

Dropping Fairwind off at his place, Shaw turned and started his walk back to the _Redemption_ , his mind now a mess. He hoped it was just the effects of the alcohol. It wouldn’t do for a spy to be caught off guard like this. He has to distance himself from Fairwind before it finds him in worse situations. At least he had the fortune of Fairwind pegging him as an Alpha. Most people did, their preconceived notions of an Omega making them preclude the possibility. They think Omegas are beholden to their physical characteristics, but what they never think about is how that might also serve as an advantage. The sense of smell he possesses as an Omega makes him an excellent judge of character. People have never been able to lie without tipping him off. But most people never consider this, and Shaw doesn’t care to explain. He’s indifferent to the whole secondary gender thing, choosing to disguise himself as a Beta out of convenience. It was a practical move, he would’ve done the same had he been an Alpha. However, he’s never had to contend with the effects it might have on his emotions. His mind wandered back to the kiss. An Alpha liking another Alpha, it seems like something Fairwind would do. His reputation as a notorious flirt was making itself evident. But for Shaw, this was all too much.

Shaking his head, Shaw packed the distracting feelings away. It was imperative for him to be well-rested for the meeting tomorrow.

\---

After the tavern incident, Shaw threw himself fully into his work. He would deny he was doing it to avoid Fairwind, but couldn’t say that he wasn’t, either. Regardless, it was having a desired effect. He hasn’t seen Fairwind since that night. Maybe he’s found some other unfortunate soul to bother with his drunken anecdotes. One could only hope.

\---

Of course, the Light wouldn’t be so kind to Shaw. It took a while for Fairwind to track down the elusive spymaster. He was only one former pirate, and if a spy didn’t want to be found, well, he was unlikely to be found. Even after he spotted the glint of red hair amidst the crowd by chance one day, he had to check twice to make sure he wasn’t mistaking someone else for him.

“Hey, Mattie!” He clapped a hand on Shaw’s shoulder. When that failed to get his attention, he was hit with a wave of sullenness, leaving him alone on the street, wounded and confused.

He supposed he knew the reason. Shaw had told him as much. Told him with a straightforwardness that was atypical of him, even. He truly seems to have offended the good spymaster this time, and Fairwind hasn’t had anyone to talk to since. He feels as though his head might explode with all the stories bouncing around inside, untold.

Explode! What a terrible way to go that would be. Despite what he might claim, Shaw was not a cruel man. He must be willing to help Fairwind avoid such an untimely demise.

As clear as Shaw had been about his feelings, he can’t help but feel drawn to the spymaster anyway. He was due to sail again soon, which means he won’t get the chance to talk to Shaw again for a long time. And for those who call the sea their home, you never know when a long time might very well be forever.

\---

Alerted by an unfamiliar knock, Shaw did a mental scan of the room for his weapons. But a familiar voice rang from the other side before he had the chance to make it to the door.

“Uhh, Mathias...I know you’re in there…” Fairwind seemed to trip over his words. “Sorry, I know I took it too far the other day…”

Shaw sat back down, determined not to answer.

“Can you find it in yourself to forgive me? I just want to talk.” His voice lacked the usual cheeriness that clung to each word.

 _No, I can’t,_ Shaw thought. _Can’t afford to._

\---

He opened the door anyway, after confirming Fairwind had indeed left. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to do so, but all he could do was shrug to himself. Until he looked down.

There, on the floor, sat a pile of pink flowers. Did Fairwind mean to bring him flowers?

He picked up the flowers to toss them away, but hesitated at the last second. Their petals were delicate, giving off a muted glow in the light. He placed them on the corner of his desk instead. It was the gifter who was to blame, he told himself, and not the gift. They deserve to have their beauty admired before they withered away.

\---

Perhaps the Light was smiling down on him after all. It’s been almost a month since he last heard from Fairwind, and he hasn't even gone out of the way to avoid him. Standing at the bow of the _Redemption_ , with the wind in his hair and the stretch of the horizon in front of him, he feels as though he understands the freedom Kul Tirans find in the sea for the first time. Passionate and carefree. As apt a description for the sea as it was for her people.

The flowers were as mysterious as the land they came from. It’s been almost a month, yet they look no worse for wear. Shaw had wondered if they were preserved, or perhaps fake, but it was impossible not to notice the breath of life each petal held. He chalked it up to some kind of nature magic. Maybe he’ll ask a druid about them sometime.

\---

One day, without warning, whatever spell that had allowed the flowers to stay pristine for weeks appeared to have shattered. Shaw stared at the flowers, once so full of life, now a crumple of wilted yellow on his desk. He felt a pit form in his stomach. He didn’t know what it meant, but it couldn’t be good. It found its way into his every thought. Every time he picked up a pen, he was reminded of those blasted flowers, and the ominous feeling threatened to consume him.

He couldn’t work like this. Desperate, he set out in search of answers.

\---

These days, without the company of Fairwind, he spent whatever free time he had wandering the streets of Boralus. He vaguely recalls seeing the flowers in the planters that lined the herbalist’s stall. Donning a disguise, he grabbed the withered flowers and headed there. He was out, however, probably picking herbs for stock. Frustrated, Shaw took off for Tradewinds Market.

There, a display of flora caught his attention.

“Excuse me, if I may ask a question?” He held out a palm containing the handful of flowers.

“Ah, sea thrifts,” the shopkeeper said, examining them. “Are you from the mainland?”

Puzzled by the question, all Shaw could do was nod.

“Did someone give them to you?” she asked, a note of sympathy in her tone.

Shaw nodded again, more slowly this time.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “whoever has entrusted you with these flowers might’ve met a tragic fate.”

In that instant, Shaw felt as though someone had taken hold of his throat. Squeezing, squeezing, threatening to choke every breath out of him.

“May I continue?” She must’ve caught something in Shaw’s expression.

Shaw schooled himself and nodded.

“Sea thrifts, known as sea stalks to some, have magical properties,” she said, holding up a stalk. Shaw watched as she clipped the flower from its stem. “Even if the flower is separated from the stalk, it does not die. Some kind of magic keeps it connected to the stalk. As long as it lives, the flower will not wither. If the flower dies, it means the stalk was not taken care of. Sailors often entrust the flowers to their families when they go out to sea, keeping the stalks for themselves.” She looked up at Shaw, then resumed her explanation. “It’s not like the customs of you mainlanders. The sea is vast, endless. It cannot return the bones of the dead. So we use these flowers as a messenger instead.”

When she raised her head again, Shaw was already gone, leaving behind only a handful of coins on the table.

\---

Shaw hasted back to his cabin with all the speed of the wind. He can’t let anyone see him like this.

He wasn’t sure when tears started falling from his face.

This was unusual. He’s heard plenty of similar tales before. Sad secrets, told in legends. None of them had affected him like this.

He’s never been an empathic person, but it was different this time. This time, he was involved.

With difficulty, he reined in his emotions so he could piece together the facts. Flynn, that scoundrel, had left him flowers. Perhaps it was all a prank, it wasn’t above the ex-pirate to have a laugh at his expense. But he thought about the life that once coloured each flower. It would be an odd choice for a prank, even for Flynn. Unable to come to a conclusion, he closed his eyes and drew in a breath, intending to forget about it all.

\---

No one noticed anything out of the ordinary. Shaw was the Spymaster, after all, with a talent for subterfuge. But wounds, even once healed, leave behind scars. He spends each night at the bow of the ship, eyes on the vast expanse of the horizon, trying to reclaim the freedom he once felt. But the only feeling that found him now was a quiet sorrow.

\---

A ship flying pirate colours approached the harbour, causing commotion amongst the ranks. It took Harbourmaster Cyrus Crestfall’s voice, booming across the promenade, to finally calm everyone down.

“No need to be alarmed. Look. Signal flags. They’re with us. Back to your stations!”

Shaw looked on with wariness as the vessel docked. Then, all the sudden, arms were around him, along with the scent of salt, soap, and whiskey. The familiarity of it stripped him of his guard for a moment.

“Hoy! Long time no see, spymaster. I’ve returned to a life of plundering the seas,” he joked. “Can I kiss you?”

Shaw stilled at the question.

“On the cheek.”

He nodded. A kiss landed on his cheek, light as the brush of a feather.

“Ha! So you've forgiven me!” Fairwind burst out laughing. Shaw wanted to protest, but Fairwind left him no room to speak. “Eight bells tonight. Same place. See you there!” With that, he was gone, sauntering off in the direction of the Harbourmaster’s office.

\---

The bell struck eight. Shaw found himself stepping into the tavern for reasons that escaped him. A quick scan of the space confirmed Fairwind’s absence. He should’ve anticipated this. When has the idiot ever been on time?

“Surprise!” He felt a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. He turned reflexively, dagger’s edge at a throat in an instant.

“Woah! Easy there, mate!” Fairwind raised his hands, laughing nervously. Guess spies don’t like surprises. “Weapons aren’t allowed in the tavern, you know.”

Shaw’s gaze fell to the sword of a Champion at the table adjacent, then back to Fairwind. He cocked an eyebrow.

“Nevermind.” Fairwind gestured at the barkeep with one hand and grabbed Shaw’s arm with the other, dragging him towards a table. He was starting on a story before they were even seated. Shaw, however, didn’t want to hear any of it. The only thing on his mind were the sea stalks, a cruel joke he had thought was beyond even the captain.

Fairwind must’ve noticed Shaw’s quiet bitterness. He stopped his vivid recounts of a fight with a kraken. “Mattie, you’re not listening to me, are you? You’ve changed. Oh, I’m wounded.”

“I’m listening,” Shaw said, but he wasn’t really. The man’s words went in one ear and out the other.

“Alright, clearly something’s on your mind. Out with it. You could’ve told me if you didn’t want to see me, you know.” Fairwind’s tone sobered.

“The flowers.”

“Flowers? What flowers?” Fairwind’s brows were furrowed. He seemed deep in thought, looking like he might hurt himself with the effort. “Are you talking about the sea stalks?”

Shaw nodded.

“Tides.” Fairwind’s expression now bore one of shock. There had been no answer when he knocked. He thought the flowers must’ve gone trampled in front of Shaw’s door, unnoticed. Despite that, he had used a bit of their precious stores of fresh water at sea to keep the stalks alive. It didn’t mean anything. He just couldn’t bear the thought of those delicate pink flowers withering away, that’s all.

He looked at the silent Shaw and cleared his throat.

“That’s why I returned on a pirate ship.” He started on a new story.

“The pirates had been following us for a while, but their ship can’t hold a candle to mine. We lost them without so much as a cannonfire,” he recalled with pride. “Then we came across a new island, full of Azerite. Poor Azeroth, my heart bleeds as she does, even if Azerite is so valuable.”

Shaw hid a smile at that.

“We had a good haul. Business as usual. Until the Horde showed up.” He paused, anger rising. “Those dirty lowlives! Blew a hole right in the hull of my ship!” His fists waved through the air in heated animation. “They had three ships! Three! Can you believe it? No doubt we would’ve blasted them out of the water if it had only been one!”

He took a deep breath, stowing away his anger. “But we had more urgent matters at hand than trading insults with the Horde. We were faced with the prospect of sinking. She had taken in a lot of water. I was resigned to my fate. Fortunately, the pirates came back. Their ship wasn’t as shabby as I thought. No match for my girl, of course, but not half bad.”

Shaw chuckled softly at the fire in Fairwind’s eyes.

“I drew up the signal flags. I would give them our haul in exchange for rescue. They wasted no time. We didn’t lose a single soul.” Everything from Fairwind’s posture to his speech positively beamed. He looked at Shaw. “Same can’t be said of the sea stalks, though. They took in a lot of seawater. Couldn’t save ‘em. Sorry for making you worry…”

“Worried? I wasn’t.” It took Shaw a moment to reply.

“Whatever you say, Mattie. I may not possess the uncanny ability to read people like you do, but even I can tell. Anyway, I spent the journey back talking with their captain. He said the winds haven’t favoured him as of late. Not much loot around to be found. I told him of my business hauling Azerite for you lot, and said I’d put in a good word for him. So here we are. Not only have I managed to reform myself, but another fellow as well. Quite the feat, I’d say!”

He had to give it to Fairwind for his ability to talk himself into - and out of - strange situations. The sly bastard. He allowed himself a smile then.

\---

Things returned to some semblance of normalcy after that. Shaw still ignored his badgering at work, but when Fairwind shouted a time and place across the gangplank, Shaw would always be there.

The war stopped for no man, and so Shaw, whose shoulders bore the entire responsibility of the SI:7, didn’t either. He almost preferred it this way.

So of course what would bring them together again but a mission.

\---

Shaw wasn’t surprised by the instructions he’d received - accompany Fairwind to their destination and gather intel. He was the most experienced captain at the Alliance’s disposal, after all.

He also failed to be surprised by the nonsense Fairwind spewed to him constantly. Like a barnacle with its favourite rock, Fairwind stuck to Shaw as if he was afraid the rock would sprout legs and make a break for it. Shaw was exasperated, but he can’t very well ask Anduin for a different captain. So the barnacle it was, whether he liked it or not.

Worse than his blatherings, however, were his incessant _questions_. About poisons. Knives. Seeing without being seen. A million questions about his trade, none of which Shaw particularly wanted to answer.

“Oi, Mattie, you’re a dangerous one. Perhaps I ought to keep my distance from you!” Fairwind said, but regrettably made no move to actually do so. He rushed to Shaw’s room at every opportunity, like a parrot lured by a cracker.

\---

“What is this?” This time, Fairwind’s attention fell on a small box sitting on Shaw’s desk.

“Nothing.”

Shaw’s attempt to wave him off only piqued his curiosity further. Reaching out, he opened the box, and caught a glimpse of the wilted yellow inside.

“You kept them!” he exclaimed. When he was still at sea, unsure if Shaw had even seen the flowers, he often found himself hoping that he did and would keep them until they withered. But people normally didn’t keep them after that. Unless the giver had indeed been swept away by the sea, then one might keep them in memoriam. But here Fairwind was, staring at the flowers he had given Shaw.

“I did. They bear witness to the prank you played on me. I keep them as a reminder to take my revenge,” Shaw said lightly.

Fairwind laughed, not believing a word of what Shaw had just said. Despite his occupation, Shaw really was kind. Provided you were a member of the Alliance, of course.

“What’s this, then?” he continued, pointing to a box that sat next to the flowers.

“Potions,” Shaw replied without looking up from his reports.

Skeptical, Fairwind raised the lid, and was greeted by a row of neatly lined vials.

“This is unexpected. Does something ail our spymaster? I would never have guessed.”

“That’s enough, Captain. It’s just for seasickness.”

Fairwind picked up a vial, examining it. It doesn’t look like any cure for seasickness he’s seen before. Who knows, maybe it hails from the mainland. Or perhaps it’s a poison? This much of it must be enough to take out the entire crew, and then some.

A sudden wave slapped the side of the ship, sending her lurching.

Shaw grabbed for the bottle of ink that flew off the table, but the vial Fairwind had been holding completed the journey for it. It clattered to the floor, spilling liquid onto the worn wood.

It didn’t immediately start eating a hole into the floorboards. Fairwind supposed it might not be poison after all. Now he doesn’t have to worry about Shaw poisoning himself in one of his moods.

For a moment, time stood still. Then--

“Get out!” Shaw all but roared.

“Hey, relax, mate. You won’t get seasick with me captaining the ship.” He placed a hand on Shaw’s arm to placate him, but saw it shaken off.

“Don’t touch me!” Shaw growled and stood, making moves to push a baffled Fairwind out the door.

“Please don’t be mad. We have plenty of cures for seasickness. We tie you to the mainmast and throw three buckets of seawater on you. You’ll feel right as rain!”

But it seemed Shaw was intent on ignoring him, which left him no choice but to leave.

\---

It was his suppressant, but he couldn’t tell anyone that. Especially not an Alpha. He picked the vial off the floor and wiped it clean. He regretted not bringing spares. All he could do was ration whatever was left in the bottle. He should be able to make it last the rest of the voyage by lowering his dosage.

\---

Fairwind had the grace to steer clear for a day. When he knocked on the door again, Shaw wanted to ignore him. But he’s knocked seven times in the past ten minutes. At this rate, Shaw was going to die of irritation. Exasperated, he steeled himself for the pirate’s pestering and opened the door.

“Ah, I get it! That potion was what you use to disguise yourself as a Beta, wasn’t it? No wonder you reacted so poorly.” Fairwind sighed, sending a shiver through Shaw. Shaw’s silence seemed to confirm his theory. “Everyone on this ship knows, they just don’t see the need to bring it up. You have nothing to be angry for. We don’t mind having another Alpha on the ship.” He took a moment to search Shaw’s face for expressions. “ _I_ don’t mind…”

“Stop,” Shaw interrupted.

“Are you saying you won’t give me a chance?” Fairwind asked dejectedly.

Shaw couldn’t answer. He didn’t know how he felt. He couldn’t forget the way his world had felt taken from him the day the flowers died. Couldn’t forget the way the tears had wet his face.

“I have work to do,” he finally said.

“Hey, that’s my line!”

\---

They were par for the course, and everything was going as expected. Shaw was in heat, which was also to be expected. It was no big deal, nothing he hasn’t experienced before. He was the Spymaster, he’s weathered much worse with less. As it was, it would not affect the quality of his work, even if the same couldn’t be said for his sleep.

Fairwind, however, has noticed something off about him.

“Hey, mate, are you feeling alright? Have you been possessed by a siren? You smell absolutely _fascinating_ ,” he said, half-jokingly.

“I’m working, Captain. I don’t expect to be disturbed.” Shaw tried to sound as dismissive as he could.

“Really, are you quite alright?” Fairwind stepped in to take a closer look, but was quickly pushed away by Shaw.

“Get out!” He snarled.

“What’s wrong?” Fairwind made no effort to move or hide the note of surprise from his voice.

Shaw kicked him out in lieu of an answer, letting the door slam Fairwind in the back of the head as he did. _That hurt_ , Fairwind thought, rubbing his head. But that was beside the point. He was sure something was wrong with Shaw now. Abducted and replaced by a selkie? Fairwind shook his head. Selkies were nothing but legends. He had to focus on facts here. And fact is, Shaw might be in trouble.

Shaw slid down against the door. He heard nothing on the other side. Fairwind has probably left. He let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Are you alright, mate?” Fairwind sat, still rubbing his head. “I’m serious, if something troubles you, just ask. I’ll do my best to help.”

“You! You are the problem, you _Alpha!_ If you want to help, leave!” Shaw couldn’t believe he was still there. His annoyance resurfaced.

“Wait. What do you mean by that?” Slowly, Fairwind came to a realization. “I think I know. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”

Shaw wasn’t a Beta, most knew that much. But if he wasn’t mistaken, he wasn’t an Alpha, either. This leaves only one possibility - he was an Omega. The vial he spilled must’ve contained his suppressant. He wanted to be vexed at Shaw for not coming clean about this earlier, it would’ve saved them both trouble. But he thinks he understands. Shaw was an Omega, passing as Beta to a world that thinks he was an Alpha. Who could’ve known what would’ve happened if he confided this to an Alpha.

Fortunately, he kept some suppressants on board as backup. Backup for what, he wasn’t sure, but better to have and not need than the other way around, right?

With the vial in hand, he hurried back to Shaw’s cabin, rapping on the door softly. Then with an equally soft voice, he spoke. “Mattie, if you can trust me, I have something for you. I think it’ll help.”

Shaw hesitated, then opened the door an inch. Fairwind handed him the vial and took a step back.

“You can close the door.” So Shaw did. Fairwind sat against the other side, and said with a seriousness that Shaw was sure he’d never heard from Fairwind before, “This is why you keep rejecting me, isn’t it. I finally understand. If you really want me to back off, I will. I may have been a bit too rough on an Omega.” He took a breath. “You could’ve told me earlier, I wouldn’t have forced anything. I apologize for the impression I must’ve left.”

Shaw wasn’t sure what to make of Fairwind’s proclamation. He’s always hid behind the guise of a Beta to keep emotions out of his work. The work he’s given his life for. Even the nights spent at the tavern with Fairwind were for work, he’s always told himself. It helped him relax, so that he may better concentrate on his work come morning.

Taking some of the suppressant, he sat and waited. He began to feel better after a few minutes. Back to work, then. Fairwind has surely left by now. He can’t imagine Fairwind had anything left to say, and he didn’t have the mind to do anything except throw himself back into the distraction of work.

“You smell much more normal now. I’ll be on my way, if that’s all,” Fairwind suddenly said.

But Shaw didn’t hear footsteps leaving.

“You don’t have to keep these things to yourself, you know. Don’t have to go through it alone.”

Even through the door, Shaw could hear the sadness in Fairwind’s words. Was this how he felt the day he left the flowers by Shaw’s door?

If only Shaw had opened the door then. Too late for that. But he can, and did, now.

“Flynn…” he choked, no words to express how he felt in his chest. He wrapped Flynn in a tight hug.

“Is this to mean a yes?” Flynn asked cautiously.

“It’s not a no,” Shaw replied, closing his eyes.

“I expected nothing less from you,” Flynn laughed, disentangling from their embrace only to capture Shaw’s lips in a kiss instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you wyl50 for giving me permission to post, and without whom this work would not exist. It was a helluva challenge to translate, but also a lot of fun! Hope I did it justice.
> 
> And go read Flarenwrath’s fic if you haven’t already. It’s an excellent one!


End file.
